The worthy coffee-man, whose countenance
was as brown as the berry in which he dealt,
grinned and winked, but at first uttered that
same absurd word which had annoyed us all
day. It was impossible, he said. The only
means of entrance was that narrow thick
door opposite. There was a wicket in it.
If we showed our Frank faces and pleaded
for admission, we should be laughed at.
That was indeed probable, but we did not
give up in despair. We waited for events,
smoking, and drinking coffee to the imminent
danger of our nerves. At last the kawajee,
who really took an interest in us, drew our
attention to a great, brawny, fellât woman,
who was coming down the street on the sunny
side, with a great pitcher on her head. She
was going, he told us, into the sealed house,
being a servant thereof; and if, he added,
retiring with a cunning look towards the back
part of his shop, we chose to go in with her,
why we should find only a decrepit old
porter, and a lot of women, to resist us. We
thought not a moment of the disagreeable
consequences the act suggested, which had
somewhat of the character of a burglary, might
entail. All means of satisfying our legitimate
curiosity, appeared to us legitimate. The
door was opened. The brawny fellât woman
entered. We made a rush across the street
—a hop, step, and a jump—and before the
old porter had time to understand what
had happened, were scrambling up a long
flight of narrow, dirty, shattered steps, as
fiercely as if we were taking a town by storm.
Where they came from we did not know, but
by the time we had reached a broad gallery
on one side, overlooking a vast court-yard, we
were surrounded by a number of women, not
the beauties we were in search of, but old,
ugly women of nondescript appearance. How
they screamed and shouted, and gesticulated,
and threatened, and put their half-veiled
faces close to ours, and asked us what we
wanted and where we came from, and where
we expected to go! Our answer consisted of
handfuls of piastres and parahs, which
produced a most complete effect. Their gestures
calmed down, their voices became gentler,
they began to understand our curiosity.
After all, where was the harm? The
merchant and his men were away—the old
porter, who at length came up, had
received a dollar in the hand that had been
stretched out to grasp one of our throats—
order was restored and then came explanations
and a sort of bargain. By this time we
had made out an individual figure in the
crowd of our quondam female assailants. It
was that of a round little old woman in a
white woollen mantle, with a muffler wrapped
all round her head, above and below her
eyes; she was the chief duenna, and when her
avarice was satisfied, professed perfectly to
appreciate our feelings, and agreed if we
would only make haste to exhibit her caged
beauties.

There were seven or eight of them, each
occupying a separate apartment opening into
the great gallery which we had reached by
our first effort. The doors were opened one
after the other. After crossing a small
ante-room, we found ourselves in each case in
a nice chamber furnished with a divan, on
which the slave sat or reclined, whilst an
attendant woman squatted near at hand
ready to serve her. The first lady we saw
received us sulkily and pulled on her veil.
The second—extremely handsome, by-the-
bye—greeted us with shouts of laughter,
made us sit down, and affected to coquette
with some of us. On being rebuked by the
duenna, she laughed still more immoderately,
and offered us coffee and pipes. A serious
quarrel ensued, during which we left, after
making our present—for we had begun to
suspect that the least interesting specimens
alone were exhibited to us. It was evident
that these two ladies, though richly dressed
and attractive in person, were not fresh
arrivals. They had most probably been
already in some Cairo harim, and were for
sale either as a punishment or on account of
the poverty of their masters. There was a
certain reckless, vicious look about them that
suggested the former to be the case—told
stories, in fact, of incompatibility of temper,
which low feeding and the whip had not been
able to overcome.

The third door had been passed over, which
of course roused our curiosity. In the other
apartments we saw one or two young girls,
very innocent-looking and quiet, with several
dames, evidently well-accustomed to that
transition state; but we did not note them,
much, being too occupied in thought with
the mysterious third chamber. At length,
after a good deal of parleying, in which
promises were not spared, we succeeded in
procuring admittance, and understood at once
the reason of the hesitation that had piqued
our inquisitiveness. Here was the gem of
the exhibition—for in that light we regarded
the place—a magnificent young woman, with
dark dreamy eyes, arched eyebrows, smooth
low forehead, rich lips, and dimpled chin.
The purple blood came to her cheeks, and
went and came again rapidly in the first
flutter caused by our intrusion. She was
dressed in the usual embroidered vest, with
a many-folded shawl round her waist and
loose trowsers, as we are accustomed to call
the Oriental jupe, because it is fastened
round below the knee, and falls in double
folds to the ancles. The lady wore a small
red cap, from beneath which her immense
profusion of small tresses, increased in
volume by braid, and spangled with gold
ornaments, fell over her shoulders. Her
unstockinged feet were partially covered by
bright yellow inner slippers, as they may be
called. When the first surprise was over, she
received us in a courteous and lady-like
manner, but still seemed puzzled to know